She could not tell how it was, but a quiet peace stole over her, a feeling which had no thought or care for the future, and it had been many nights since she had slept as sweetly or soundly as she did for one-half hour with her head upon the table in that little room at Terrace Hill, Dr. Richard’s home and Anna’s. She did not see the good-humored face which looked in at her a moment, nor hear the whispering in the hall; neither did she know when Willie was coaxed from the room and carried up the stairs into the upper hall, where he was purposely left to himself, while Pamelia went to Anna’s room, where she was to sit for an hour or so, while the ladies had their lunch. Anna’s head was better; the paroxysms of pain were less frequent than in the morning, and she lay upon her pillow, so nearly asleep that she did not hear that unusual sound for Terrace Hill, the patter of little feet in the hall without. Tired of staying by himself and spying the open door, Willie hastened toward it, pausing a moment on the threshold as if to reconnoiter. Something in Anna’s attitude, as she lay with her long fair hair falling over the pillow, must have reminded him of Alice, for with a cry of delight, he ran forward, and patting the white cheek with his soft baby hand, lisped out the word “Arn-tee, Arn-tee,” making Anna start suddenly and gaze at him in wondering surprise. “Who is he?” she said, drawing him to her at once and pressing a kiss upon his rosy face. Pamelia told her what she knew of the stranger waiting in the reception room, adding in conclusion, “I believe they said you did not want her, and Jim is to take her to the depot when it’s time. She’s very young and pretty, and looks so sorry, Jim told me.” “Said I did not want her! How did they know?” and something of the Richards’ spirit flashed from Anna’s eyes. “The child is so beautiful, and he called me, _Auntie_, too! He must have an auntie somewhere. Little dear! how she must love him! Lift him up, Pamelia!” The woman obeyed, and Willie was soon nestled close to Anna, who kissed him again, smoothed his curls, pinched his cheek, squeezed his soft hands, and then asked whom he so much resembled. Pamelia could not tell. The likeness had puzzled her, but she never thought of finding it in her young mistress’ face. “I must see his mother,” Anna said, as she continued to caress and fondle him. “Perhaps I should like her. At any events I will hear what she has to say. Show her up, Pamelia; but first smooth my hair a little and arrange my pillows,” she added, feeling intuitively that the stranger was not like the others who had come to her on similar errands. Pamelia complied with her request, brushing back the long, loose locks, and making the bed more smooth and tidy in its appearance; then leaving Willie with Anna, she repaired to the reception room, and rousing the sleeping Adah, said to her hurriedly,